food for the soul
by Neil Davies
Summary: Can even Caine reconcile a Jewish Rabbi and a neo Nazi down on his luck?


7

**FOOD FOR THE SOUL**

Weak tangerine spikes cracked a harsh bruise coloured sky as another day was slowly born over the cold city. The tables were wheeled out by tireless workers, most of them middle-class students and in a huge pot something warm was poured ready to be reheated and stirred many times. Rabbi Joe watched it all occurring with a degree of pride, his father would have approved, he was sure his God certainly did.

More volunteers today he thought including that new guy, a very strange man who said very little yet who carried with him a serenity and self-assurance Joe wished he had himself; it was an almost holy reverence. I must get to know more about him thought the Rabbi; he seems the kind of a man who would make a good friend and maybe a wise teacher.

The soup kitchen was a newish venture less than a week old but already it was attracting a huge assembly of the homeless and jobless, more each day as the economy shrank and poverty gained sharper teeth. Joe kept it open all day something g that would have been impossible without the loyal, hard-working bunch of volunteers, by no means all of them Jewish, Caine wasn't a Jew; it was hard to figure out just what he was as he never said.

Hal was tired; weak and very cold he hadn't eaten for at least two days and not much then, he had little choice really it was the soup kitchen or nothing. It would be humiliating but his stomach didn't care as it growled and twisted desperate for nourishment of any kind. Hal he had the Rabbi in charge once before when his fortunes were very different, it had not been an amicable encounter and he was hoping that the guy had forgotten it. Then again Hal had changed a lot in two years, he was thinner and with a beard, the designer clothes and BMW long gone.

Something caught his eye in the alley leading to the soup kitchen it shone brightly in the weak orange rays, could it be a coin, an item of jewellery? Hope surged within him the hope of a desperate and lost man down on his luck, but as he moved towards it the other men appeared.

It was clear they'd seen it to, four men – street punks like him based on their clothing and gaunt features but they were working as a team whereas he was solo. Once Hal would have been confident in his abilities, he'd been a good fighter but starvation and cold had taken their toll. Skinny now, the muscle largely gone and stamina to he was only able to offer token resistance.

He threw a punch that missed then they were on him, not skilled just crazy with hunger, he twisted and tried to kick but they bore him down, fists went in first then shoes. Unable to do anything effective Hal curled into a ball to protect his face and vital organs; with any luck they'd soon lose interest, take the trinket and go.

Winded he felt his nose begin to bleed as the men were gripped by a savage frenzy, taking out their frustrations on the other thing available.

Then an odd thing happened and Hal was astonished, why anyone should risk their life helping him especially some lean guy in bare feet he didn't know.

Bare feet – in this chill, the man had to be poorer than him if he possessed no shoes.

He did however possess something else of greater value in that moment and Hal watched enthralled by what happened next.

One of the attackers flew away from him to crash into some sacking his senses scattered, another man doubled over and collapsed holding his liver, a third flipped right over and smashed head first into some bins, the last guy threw a punch that was batted aside, his arm was skilfully locked and he was turned, tripped and sent spinning to the ground.

The first thug picked himself up, looked around, found a weapon and swung it at the guy with bare feet until one of those feet nailed him with two fast kicks – stomach and jaw.

Two of the other vagabonds had recovered enough to charge the stranger, who jumped into the air with the grace of a ballerina to kick one of them between the eyes, Landing he pivoted clockwise and hit his last opponent with knee, elbow and edge of the hand.

Combat training thought Hal and to a very high degree, he knew enough to be impressed. He had skills of his own but they weren't quite in the same league, not as flashy or athletic; what he had seen was Eastern maybe Chinese and so to a degree was the winner of the fight – mixed race.

Hal flinched as strong hands helped him to sit upright then those same hands explored his body seeking any potential injuries. He flinched as they found his ribs, but oddly the pain began to diminish almost at once, his neck hurt from a kick but very soon the pain was gone there to; what was this guy doing?

With a rag the martial artist wiped his bloody nose and fingered it tenderly to see if it was broken, it wasn't

"Thanks," Hal grunted, you're welcome said the look he got in reply, "I'm Hal."

Before the man could respond the Rabbi jogged over with some volunteers, just kids and pretty soft-looking, they wouldn't be much use in a fight Hal figured. The Rabbi shouted something it sounded like Caine and bare foot nodded to him.

"What happened here," the Rabbi asked?

"Saved my life," Hal told him, "Beat all four of them," did the Jew know him; there was no flash of recognition?

"You beat these men alone Caine," Joe gasped, "That's remarkable."

"He's an expert," Hal added as the others helped him to his feet, "They would have kicked me to a pulp, I'm very grateful."

"Karen here is a nurse, let her check you over," Joe indicated a pretty blond aged about nineteen and Hal thought yeah she can check me over any time she likes.

"The soup smells good," he remarked.

"You're welcome," the Jew offered then he cocked his head on one side, "Have we met before only you seem…?"

"I don't think so," Hal was blunt and affected a drunken stagger to deflect attention it worked, except with Caine who regarded him thoughtfully and Caine stayed where he was as the others helped Hal over to a tent.

Having noticed something fall from the newcomers back pocket Caine bent to pick it up, the wallet was dusty and battered, wrinkled with age and faded by exposure to the sun. Within was a photo of Hal, his full name, an address and a symbol one Caine had seen before a symbol of hate and intolerance.

Pocketing the wallet he looked at the bodies around him, none were too badly hurt so he made his way back to the encampment of tables and tents. Hal was in one of these being examined, he caught Caine's eye and gave a slow nod then Rabbi Joe was by Caine's side.

"You can fight four men at once," he was saying, "Where did you learn something like that and what are you doing here?"

What indeed, eyes losing focus Caine drew in a slow deep breath

_At least once a week they came to Hunan village for supplies and to offer what help they could to the unfortunate, a bowl of rice, a kind word and what healing skills they had it was little enough but much appreciated by those who had nothing – the lame, elderly and diseased of whom there seemed to be more and more each week, by no means all of them locals but refugees from other towns even other provinces whose homes had been sacked and burned by the Manchu soldiers._

_Po stopped suddenly he did not look around but instead raised his stick sideways and Caine saw the man huddled in the doorway, dirty, bloody, clothing torn and a patch over one eye. Cunning glinted in the other eye, malicious hatred emphasized by the leer and knife in the left hand, was this a robber?_

"_And so you have returned empty-handed Chang Tzu as I told you would be the case," said the blind master of the temple and Caine's mentor._

_Not moving Chang regarded the old man viciously and for a moment it looked as though he would attack him, he would be a fool if he did; Po might be old and blind but he was far from helpless._

"_Does your anger sustain you still, does your rhetoric fill an empty belly," Po asked then to the boy beside him, "This is the rebel leader of Hunan who would overthrow the emperor and create a new and just China out of the blood of the old."_

_Chang responded, "I can do without your smug sarcasm old man or your tedious lectures on acceptance and tolerance, save them for the soldiers murdering women and children in a dozen towns."_

_Po said, "Provoked by your words and callous indifference Chang Tzu?"_

"_At least I tried to make a difference I didn't hide inside a temple or behind pious words, how do you help the masses Po?"_

_In response the old man patted the small sack of herbs and ointments he carried and indicated the pan of soup carried by his boy pupil._

"_In small ways Chang by doing what is possible, instead of offering hollow promises of revolution."_

"_Until the Manchu's burn your temple down," the snarl made Caine flinch was that possible?_

"_If that is our destiny then it will happen whatever I say or do," Po admitted._

"_It is your destiny Po, it is the fate of all honest people in this cruel land to be oppressed and murdered."_

_Chang shuffled away revealing that his right hand was gone severed just under the elbow, had he also lost an eye?_

_Caine asked, "Master…who is that, you seem to know him?"_

_With a sad look on his face Po nodded, "Before you became my favourite disciple there was Chang a most promising student, most promising; until he embraced the path of hatred a path that has consumed many with its sorry lament."_

Some time later Caine entered the tent to find Hal devouring a third bowl of soup hungrily, his spoon paused as the two men locked eyes then taking out the wallet Caine opened it to reveal the symbol; the swastika.

Gazing at it Hal put his spoon down, "Have you told the Jew," he asked then reconsidered, "I guess not or he'd be drumming me out of here."

Saying nothing Caine ran a thumb over the symbol, Hal said.

"I was young then and rich, cocky with it; it isn't who I am anymore."

"Yet you keep it," Caine said softly appearing to use a lot more than just four words.

"A relic from the past a keep sake, haven't you done that?"

"The membership date is current," Caine closed the wallet and held onto it, "Perhaps it does not represent the past," he suggested.

Hal forced a smile this half-breed was no fool he had a mind as sharp as his kicks.

"I've made some dumb mistakes in my life Caine things I'm not proud of, I come from a rich family my Dad is a Congressman and I suppose I rebelled, joined the first extremist group I came across. For a time I got carried along by their rhetoric, I lost myself and got addicted to…well the sort of things they did, the symbolism, the discipline and the hatred. I'm not a racist not anymore maybe I never was and I've paid for it, look at me a down and out, starving in the gutter."

The two men regarded each other both thoughtful, one persuasive the other reflective.

"May I have the wallet back," Hal extended his hand keeping his other hand out of sight but Caine was too shrewd for that he retreated back out of the tent.

"Later," He whispered putting it back in his pocket as though he needed to consider his options.

When he was gone Hal moved his concealed hand into view, he folded up the flick knife with a frown glad that he'd washed it recently to remove the coppery stain and the slight odour that went with it.

Caine his saviour had become a bit of a problem and problems were meant to be solved, by the most direct means possible.

The tall silent man was taking his turn stirring and ladelling the soup when Rabbi Joe found him; his movements were smooth and even and on his face was a look of contentment not boredom as though even the simplest of tasks could be enjoyed to the full.

"I've heard a rumour Mr Caine that you, like me, are a priest is that true?"

A simple nod was the only response.

"Is it one of the eastern religions?"

Caine stirring did not falter, "I am a priest of the shaolin order."

"I don't think I know that one and I've heard of most of them," Joe forced a smile, "Do you believe in reincarnation, I only ask because some of the young people do these days that and other Eastern concepts?"

Caine stopped stirring, "Sometimes," he said, "I experience the visions and memories of my grand father, he to was a shaolin priest; I relive his experiences and hear the voices he heard."

Joe frowned finding this a hard idea to take in, it was so different from anything he'd heard as a trainee Rabbi and had no place in Judaism.

"That's very strange," he finally said, "Perhaps they are just dreams."

Caine shrugged perhaps, he would not argue the point; during meditation he had accessed many different realms of perception where time as such did not exist, where past present and future were one.

"What do you think of Hal," Joe pressed, "I'm sure I've met him before somewhere his voice is familiar to me and his manner?"

The stirring resumed, "Each of us has many layers, some obvious some not."

A smile was forced, "Do you think he can be trusted?"

"Your question indicates you doubt this," Caine thought of the wallet and what it contained, should he tell this man, did he not have a right to know? On the other hand Joe might banish Hal from the soup kitchen and his only source of food and comfort; what was the right thing to do?

"There's just something about him that troubles me," Joe replied, "I am suspicious and distrustful; perhaps I'm not a very good Rabbi."

Caine blinked startled by the admission for it resonated in his mind.

_I am cut out for this his younger self agonized is this really the path I want to follow, sat alone in the hall of contemplation he twitched and fidgeted unable to sink into full meditation his muscles as tense as his thoughts distracted._

_He heard footsteps close by and opened his eyes giving up the uneven fight, one he knew he couldn't win._

_Master Lu stood watching him, the elderly priest as thin as a stick yet as strong as an iron bar, he was a master Caine had known in his current life as a novice at the temple this was not one of his grand father's memories. Lu had encouraged him to take his vows and embark on the shaolin path, a path now muddied by uncertainty._

"_I do not feel worthy master, my thoughts and feelings concern me."_

_Kindly old Lu sat beside him folding into a lotus like the supplest yoga adept, yet Lu had to be in his mid seventies._

"_All true spiritual seekers have a crisis of confidence Kwai Chang it is perfectly natural, we are people who question who wonder and who look into the deepest darkest parts of ourselves. A wise man, not shaolin, once said that a life unexamined is not worth living. I believe this maxim myself and I to once doubted the veracity of my path, was I good enough, strong enough or pure enough."_

_Startled Caine blinked at the old man having never heard him say this before, "How did you overcome this torment master?"_

"_I didn't my son no true seeker ever does, it is how one knows that one is a true seeker, total certainty is a trap for the foolish."_

Jerking awake with shock Hal turned to find the man Caine stood staring at him having entered the tent without making a single sound. Priding himself on his hearing and reflexes Hal felt disappointed even annoyed, he put it down to his weakened state although with food in his belly he was starting to feel more like his old self.

"What do you want," he snapped angrily then curtailed his temper, "Sorry, bit of a headache, are you going to give me my wallet back?"

Head shaking once Caine replied, "The Rabbi must know of it if you plan to stay here, he cannot be denied the truth."

"No Caine please," getting to his feet Hal fumbled in a pocket, "He'd throw me out you know he would and then where would I go?"

A shrug greeted this outburst, "If this creed is in your past then explain that to him, ask for his understanding and forgiveness; he is after all a man of god."

Hal's fingers closed around the knife his old equalizer, "He's a Jewish priest, how could he understand such a thing; no please don't tell him."

"It is you who should do the telling," Caine responded.

Mind working quickly Hal listened for voices outside, was there anyone close by who would act as a witness to what he was about to do? Deciding there wasn't he made his move, hand out, hand back and then…

But Caine wasn't there to be stabbed, he seemed to melt away like a ghost like fog and Hal had no choice but to go after him and try again.

Within a moment they were outside the tent but Caine had seen the knife, he would know what Hal had been planning; there was no going back now.

Hal lunged stabbing for the heart, his arm was deftly parried, he tried again and met another block, his next move was a low kick but Caine seemed ready for this for anything he did. The leg was caught and Hal upended onto the ground, landing with a curse.

People looked, Joe looked activity came to a halt. Up fast Hal went at Caine using all his skill and trickery, dodging, evading and twisting the half-breed became a blur he could not be caught. Hal was pushed off balance, tripped, wrong footed and then sent to the ground again landing on his face this time. Enraged at being humiliated by an impure creature he gave a bestial snarl and attack, a blow stopped him, a kick stunned him and then he was falling back and back into….

Into the arms of Rabbi Joe, Joe gasped and looked down at the red stain on the front of his shirt where the knife had pierced him.

Hal couldn't believe it, he had stabbed the Jew priest; he hadn't meant to.

Falling to his knees with a gasp Joe looked up from the blood to Hal and then to Caine; the latter was with him instantly shoving Joe aside.

"Lie still, don't try to speak," Caine checked the wound how deep was it how much blood was there, Karen cried out, a cell phone in her hands to dial 911.

Like a desperate animal Hal knew two things, he had badly wounded someone and the cops would want to question him he had to get away from here but first he needed his ID wallet – it could incriminate him.

"Give it to me Caine or you get the same."

Crouched with his back to Hal, Caine focused on Rabbi Joe, "Breathe deeply, try to relax and focus on my voice," he soothed.

"Caine, the wallet; now!"

Hal attacked, feeling it rather than seeing it Caine balanced on both hands and jumped kicking back with his right foot, the famed tiger-tail kick of shaolin. Hit squarely in the chest Hal flew away, crashed into the soup can and overturned it sending scalding hot soup everywhere some of it splashing on him. His screams pierced the air as he clawed at his burning flesh, people ran to help him one of them saw the knife another saw the wallet that had fallen from Caine's pocket.

"I don't want to die;" Joe's words touched Caine deeply, "Please don't let me die."

The wound was bad but should not be fatal with treatment, Taking off his jacket Caine used it to staunch the bleeding, he felt guilty and foolish he should have exposed Hal at once not delayed by doing so he had colluded in this tragedy and a good man's life was at risk.

"Oh my god," Karen's voice strident and angry, "Look at this he's a Nazi, a goddamn neo Nazi," she glared at Hal, voices of concern turned to anger and those treating Hal stopped at once giving him filthy looks, some Jewish some not but all disgusted.

"He is a man," Caine's voice was the only one not raised in condemnation, "Is one man's life worth less than another's," he asked and they all looked at him.

"Yes," Karen answered, "Joe is a priest he helps people, Hal is….well he's scum, a racist and a liar."

Her face was twisted with loathing, flushed with outrage and Caine's mind dipped back to his conversation with Master Lu.

"_Shouldn't one despise evil master, is it not a vile thing?"_

"_Do not confuse evil with those who fall into its seductive embrace Kwai Chang, not all men who embrace evil are evil many are foolish, misguided and weak."_

"_But are we to excuse them for their actions, surely they are responsible as are we all?"_

"_They must indeed face what they have done, there is no other way to atone; but for us to hate them is to make the same mistake they have embraced, hatred is poisonous seek instead to understand to find reasons to learn the lessons life is offering us."_

Caine went over to Hal who lay groaning and weeping, his hands and face burned, he would need healing or the burns would turn septic and he would be badly disfigured, so Caine offered soothing words and let his chi do the rest.

"You're helping him," Karen spat, "That thing, that Nazi?"

Caine offered no explanation, the good man and the bad man were both still human they had just made different choices and learned different lessons.

"He deserves to die," someone else said and this time Caine did respond he looked around at the speaker, a youth with untidy hair and a peace symbol on his t-shirt.

"He deserves to learn," Caine responded, as do we all he didn't add.

Shaking and body going into spasms Hal cried out in terror, "My hands my face they're burning."

"The pain will ease," Caine informed.

"I can't see, am I blind?"

"The chi in your eyes has not been lost."

"Help me, please help me."

A crowd had formed now and their mood was ugly led by the girl Karen who had picked something up, it was a stick. Rising to meet her Caine touched the stick gently, "Is this really the way," he asked?

"He stabbed Joe he's going to pay for it."

"Has he not already," Caine pleaded.

Hal shouted, "I didn't mean it I'm sorry it was an accident."

"Yeah sure it was," yelled a man moving forwards, again his passage was impeded by Caine.

"The Rabbi will live," Caine insisted.

"How can you know that, who are you anyway, a friend of this fascist maybe you're one to?"

Caine's head shunted to one side at the absurdity of this remark and the accuser backed off a little ashamed, just a little. It was time to address the mob to contain this,

"Joe is going to live," said Caine, "His injury looks worse than it is, the man who attacked him has suffered more whatever his political views."

An approaching siren helped to offset the mob mentality; these were not bad people they were just reacting with shock and grief.

Looking at the girl Karen – the obvious leader – Caine pushed down her stick, "If you dislike intolerance why practise it," he asked and slowly she released her hold on the weapon, "The best way to help Joe is to keep this soup kitchen going and help those who need it."

Nods greeted this just a few a first then more, finally Karen sighed seeing the wisdom of that.

Caine went back to Hal, he had made mistakes but then who hadn't, "Let me contact your family and let them know where you are," he offered, wasn't there a parable about a lost son?


End file.
